Listen to My Voice
by arcanebasswitch
Summary: Almeria Redoran, daughter of the head of House Redoran, ventures to Skyrim to oversee the Dunmers. But when a strange mantra rings in her head, the adventure twists in a different manner. Rated M for future gore and suggested themes. Miraak X OC. R&R please. I'LL UPDATE AGAIN! SORRY FOR THE WAIT :)
1. A Princess' Journey

**LISTEN TO MY VOICE**

Act 1: A Princess' Journey

4E, Fifth of Second Seed, Morndas

**WHITERUN**

* * *

My home had been a little silent since I sent my housecarl and trusted companion Lydia, to gather some supplies from the neighboring hold of Markarth.

By now you must wonder who it is speaking to you. My name is Almeria Redoran. Sounds familiar? I am a Dunmer hailing from House Redoran, the current ruling House in our home of Morrowind. To be honest, my reception in the province of Skyrim has not been well. Our kind had not been granted the courtesy the residents give amongst themselves. We are looked down on because of our eyes and sallow skin. But that will not make a difference now, yes? But enough of these criticisms. I am here to see the that my Dunmer brethren are fine and well. Our kind does not have much involvement in the affairs of Skyrim, nor do we care.

* * *

Anyway, I have arranged for a trip to Windhelm, where I will meet with the new jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter, but alas, without Lydia, my trip would be impeded for but a while. A knock on the door disturbs my morning breakfast, and so I get up to answer the door. Ah, a courier wearing the garbs of an Imperial. What a splendid sight in the morning as I take in his message. It is a request from a good friend of ours in the island of Solstheim, councilor Adril Arano. Always a pleasure to assist the good man and his lot over there. It seems that I have to leave without Lydia.

As I have accustomed to doing, I have left a note here in the house should Lydia return and find it empty. As a representative of the House Redoran, I shall not travel by an ordinary horse-drawn cart, but a special envoy had been arranged for me. I must get to Windhelm, for the harbor there is my only way to Solstheim. Azura guide and bless me on my journey.

* * *

The trip to Windhelm was rather slow. Bandits littered the hillsides and forests that we passed, but none of them managed to pilfer even a single piece of gold, for my knowledge in magic proved far too much for them. With a simple flick of my hand, fire rained upon those heathens, and nothing was left of them except their meager possessions. It is, how should we say, the perk of being trained by the wizards and mages of House Telvanni.

* * *

Ah, Azura's light shines. Evening is at hand now as my men and I decided to camp for the time. Flicking my hand once more, I set ablaze the gathered firewood. While sitting on the cool earth, looking at the fire, I noticed that I was not garbed in my usual armor. Instead, I wore the robes of the great House Redoran: red, with gold trimmings. I kept my hair tied back in a ponytail so it will not get in the way of my sight, and I carried my trusted staff with me. The soldiers all wore their Imperial and Stormcloak armor, which is quite a sight since I have heard that a civil war had erupted between those two factions.

I saw one of the soldiers unfurl a map onto the ground. It was the most detailed map of Skyrim that I've ever laid eyes on. "We still have a long day ahead, m'lady." he told me. "Aside from the bandits, sabre cats, bears, and your occasional elemental wraiths, the path to Windhelm is quite a journey." I shook my head in dismay. "Where exactly are we?" I inquired. "M'lady, we are well past the Battle-Born Farm, Shimmermist Cave, and the Fellglow Keep. We are approaching the Uttering Hills Cave, Morvunskar, Raldbthar, and Shearpoint." the soldier answered. "Far beyond those will be another road, and we will pass Anga's Mills, and the Windhelm Stables, which serve as the threshold to Windhelm." I nodded in acknowledgement as I asked again, "How long do you think it shall take for us to arrive?" "By Middas, we shall arrive." he answered as he rolled back the map and went to his tent. I, too, retreated to my own tent, and slept the night away.

I have not kept track of the time, yet I knew I was fast in slumber, dreaming. I prayed to good Azura that she keep me away from Vaermina's clutches. But nay, my prayers went unheard, as a cold embrace swept over my body. But the sign of the Daedric Prince of Nightmares was nowhere… Only the echo of a mantra that sounded unfamiliar to me. It droned like a funeral march.

* * *

"_Here in his shrine_  
_That they have forgotten_  
_Here do we toil_  
_That we might remember_  
_By night we reclaim_  
_What by day was stolen_  
_Far from ourselves_  
_He grows ever near to us_  
_Our eyes once were blinded_  
_Now through him do we see_  
_Our hands once were idle_  
_Now through them does he speak_  
_And when the world shall listen_  
_And when the world shall see_  
_And when the world remembers_  
_That world shall cease to be_ "

* * *

"By the gods!" I woke up, panting and heaving. Although to you, it would be an innocent chant, there was something about those words that were…terrifying. Thankfully, I did not wake the rest of the group, therefore I resolved to go back to sleep, this time praying more fervently to Azura to protect me from whatever entity assaulted my slumber. And I was sure it was not Vaermina.

As morning arrived, I woke with a start, despite a throbbing headache due to waking every few minutes. I was given a basin of fresh water to wash my face with, and breakfast, in the form of grilled chicken breast and venison, were being cooked by one of the soldiers. "Good day, m'lady." the soldiers greeted. The one I had talked to last night, I had finally gotten his name: Frigyrd Shatter-Shield, a Nord who lived in Windhelm. No wonder he knew the places well. "M'lady Almeria, I trust your slumber had been well?" he asked. My father had assigned him to be my steward when the envoy had been assembled. "I've had better." I answered nonchalantly as I proceeded to take a piece of grilled chicken breast. Eating it with relish, I was also handed a flask of ale. Ale? In the morning? By all that Jyggalag stood for, why would one consume this in the early part of the day? "You better drink the mead, m'lady." Frigyrd said. "The path to Windhelm runs colder. Windhelm itself is no hearth. The mead will keep you warm." Begrudgingly, I took the mead and drank it carefully. It did warm me up, long enough to start traveling once more. And Frigyrd was not joking. The weather suddenly went cold.

* * *

**HELLO EVERYONE. THIS IS MY FIRST SKYRIM FANFIC FEATURING AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER, ALMERIA REDORAN, AND EVERYBODY'S FAVE DRAGON PRIEST MIRAAK. PLEASE R&R. THANKS :)**


	2. Speak Softly

Act II: Speak Softly

4E, Sixth of Second Seed, Tirdas

* * *

Ah, the day indeed is fast, when one is occupied in thoughts. But, what thoughts occupy me? Aside from how my Dunmer brethren are doing in Windhelm, the mantra I heard last night in my sleep also kept me well in concentration. In my carriage, as I rested my elbow upon the armrest of the plush chair, I put my cheek against my hand, my crimson gaze wondering to the window. Skyrim looked…beautiful. Morrowind had not possessed such life in its lands, especially after the eruption in Red Mountain. Nothing but ashes, I remember my father say. Our splendid land, nothing but ashes. It breaks my heart, even to this day, when I see nothing but ashes there. Now, that I would be visiting Solstheim after a brief sojourn to Windhelm, I cannot help but feel sorry for the Dunmer who settled there.

The winds are growing ever colder as we passed what looked to be Shearpoint and Raldbthar. Frigyrd, who accompanied me inside the carriage, described them to me. "Aye, m'lady, Shearpoint and Raldbthar are verily ancient." he said. "Shearpoint was home to a dragon, as I recall, whereas Raldbthar was a Dwemer ruin." "Dwemer…" I said to him. "Their people were not quite the sociable lot, much like House Telvanni, I tell you. Their innovations were remarkable, as they even got to your home, but it was their undoing as well." "I heard that you Dunmer had bad blood with them?" my Nord companion inquired, to which I nodded. "T'was many a year ago, dear Companion, that the Dunmer, once known as Chimer, battled with those Dwemer." I said. It was one of the most important events in our people's history. We, the Dunmer, were not always so ill-fated. Our skin was once fair, and our eyes as blue as the skies. But a broken oath by our three god-leaders Sotha Sil, Indoril Almalexia, and Vivec the God-Poet, invoked the wrath of Azura and cursed our people to appear like this for all eternity. "But I shall tell you more another time." I continued. "When time is not so much of the essence. Where are we now, Frigyrd?" The hulking Nord looked out the window. "M'lady, we are passing by the Great Lift of Raldbthar." he answered. "It is similar to the one at Alftand, up north." I nodded. Though I did not like the Dwemer simply because of the history, I cannot deny that their isolation from the rest of Mer had yielded great results. The ruins are magnificent.

"We should stop here for the night as well. The day runs fast, and the sun is almost going to rest." I said, and Frigyrd signaled to the carriage driver to stop the carriage.

* * *

Like what we did on our way here, we had set up camp. Food was harder to find, since we were near Dwemer ruins, and I pray you, Falmer ear does not count as edible. Luckily, some of the soldiers packed emergency supplies of salmon meat, venison (which I have grown to like very much), chicken breast, apples, potatoes, and a very large mammoth tusk. Also, they did not forget their mead. Soon, the sun had descended, the moons were high above our heads, and Azura's light shines ever so brightly.

We Dunmer are often discriminated due to worshipping the Daedra. We are called "evil" because of this. But nay, we do not worship all Daedra. We worship the Divine Triune of Ancestry, Blessed be Their Names. They are what you refer to as "good" Daedra. They are Boethiah, Azura, and Mephala. The reason why we honor those three is that they are the Anticipations, representations of our legendary leaders Sotha Sil, Vivec the God-Poet, and Indoril Almalexia. Personally, I favor Azura for her ways, and her help in separating us from the Altmer. But enough of the religious drabble.

I helped the men cook the meals, and of course, they offered me mead once more. I took one sip, and it was enough to warm me, even warmer than before, but it was a comforting feeling nonetheless. And as every side effect of mead goes, my head lightens, but I feel extremely sleepy, therefore I retired to my own tent while the rest of the soldiers did their patrols, while some others rested.

Then there it was again. The cold embrace, and the chanting. But this time it was different. It was but the voice of one, a man perhaps, the words were different yet the drone was amost the same.

* * *

"_The Master_

_Here in my temple_

_Here in my shrine_

_That you have forgotten_

_Here do you toil_

_That you might remember_

_Here you reclaim_

_What faithless minds have stolen_

_Far from yourself_

_I grow ever nearer to you_

_Your eyes once were blinded_

_Now through me do you see_

_Your hands once were idle_

_Now through them do I speak_

_And when the world shall listen  
And when the World shall see  
_

_And when the world remembers..._

_That world will cease to be."_

* * *

Again, my body jolted upright, the sweat beads forming on my forehead. By the gods, I must be going mad, but the men cannot know, the Jarl of Windhelm cannot know, and most certainly my Dunmer brethren cannot know. But why? Why am I being haunted by these strange words? Such ill-met fate I have upon stepping on this land. Thankfully, again, I did not get the attention of the soldiers. This is very unbecoming of a noblewoman from House Redoran. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I decided to sleep no more and accompany the men in their patrol. And perhaps, practice my magic on a few trespassers.

Thank the gods day had arrived. The sky was a myriad of colors, like Azura's plane: yellow, streaked with fiery orange and a hint of red. I had changed my garbs to a much simpler robe, one that is silver with black trimmings, bearing the coat-of-arms of House Redoran. To my glee, I find my envoy ready to depart within a few minutes. Frigyrd waited for me by the carriage's door. "Off we go, m'lady?" he said. "Aye, let us be off. Jarl Brunwulf waits." I answered, and we climbed inside the carriage and departed the Dwemer settlement. Still, that chanting has grown to be a bit unnerving…

* * *

**SKYRIM TERMINOLOGY (FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T PLAYED SKYRIM)**

**DUNMER - DARK ELVES**

**DWEMER - DWARVES**

**RALDBTHAR - ANCIENT DWEMER RUINS. THRESHOLD TO WINDHELM**

**SHEARPOINT - A HIGH PEAK THAT HOUSES A WORD WALL AND A DRAGON MOUND**

**WINDHELM - A CITY OF NORDS, PROBABLY THE MOST ANCIENT (IF NOT MARKARTH). ONCE RULED BY JARL ULFRIC STORMCLOAK, IT IS NOW UNDER BRUNWULF-FREE WINTER**

**HOUSE REDORAN - CURRENT RULING HOUSE IN MORROWIND**

**HOUSE TELVANNI - A POLITICAL HOUSE THAT WENT INTO ISOLATION TO PURSUE WISDOM AND THE ARCANE ARTS. VERY WELL-VERSED MAGES AND WIZARDS WHO ARE DUNMER HAIL FROM HOUSE TELVANNI, SUCH AS NELOTH. **

**DAEDRA - COUNTERPART OF THE AEDRA, IT IS UNCLEAR WHETHER THE DAEDRA ARE TRULY EVIL OR JUST A MEANS OF COUNTER-BALANCING THE DIVINE PLANES. MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, SOME DAEDRA (AZURA, BOETHIAH, MERIDIAN, MEPHALA, NOCTURNAL) ARE VIEWED AS "GOOD", WHEREAS THE REST (MALACATH, JYGGALAG, SHEOGORATH, MOLAG BAL, MEHRUNES DAGON, CLAVICUS VILE, PERYITE, NAMIRA, HIRCINE, VAERMINA) ARE VIEWED AS "EVIL". **

**SOTHA SIL, INDORIL ALMALEXIA, VIVEC THE GOD-POET - THREE LEGENDARY LEADERS OF MORROWIND WHO WERE THE CAUSE OF THE DUNMER'S TRANSFORMATION FROM BEING LIGHT-SKINNED TO ASHEN GRAY IN COMPLEXION BECAUSE OF BREAKING AN OATH. **


	3. The Arrival at Windhelm

Act III: The Arrival at Windhelm

4E, Seventh of Second Seed, Middas

* * *

The cold air bit my skin already. I have already summoned a small fire ball to keep me warm, but that was not enough either. From outside, one of the soldiers shouted, "Windhelm! Aye, we are at Windhelm!" I sat back and sighed in relief. Finally, we were here. I can now seek an audience with Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter. From what I have heard, before he took the position, his predecessor was Ulfric Stormcloak, the one who killed High King Torygg and usurped his throne. Ulfric was brought down by the forces of the Imperial army, and had been killed as well. Now, Brunwulf was aligned with the Empire, a fitting victory for them. But t'was a sight still, for Imperials and Stormcloak soldiers mingled inside the cold city.

The snow had began to fall. The guards at Windhelm's gate halted us for inspection. "And what may be the reason of you travel?" one of them asked. "I wish to speak with Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter." I answered. "I am Almeria Redoran of House Redoran. I'm sure the Jarl is well aware of my visit." The guard had one of his men go into the Palace of the Kings, the seat of the Jarl, to see if the audience really was legit. After a few minutes, the guard returned, and the envoy was allowed entry. I was shocked at how… how _lonely_ the place looked. Everything was made of stone, like Markarth, but there is a hint of superiority into it, since this is the most prestigious city of the Nord race. Frigyrd escorted me out of the carriage. "Your family is here, yes?" I asked. "Aye, they live in front of Viola Giordano's house at the eastern part." he answered. "Visit them." I said them. "See your family. I shall be fine." Frigyrd's blue eyes widened with happiness and surprise. "M'lady? Are you sure?" he asked, and I simply nodded. "Please see your family." I said. Frigyrd bowed as he went to his home. I proceeded to the Palace. I will travel without my men's company for now, for I can very much handle myself, and they need to spend time with their families as well. I may look harsh, but I am not inconsiderate.

* * *

The Palace of the Kings was an imposing stone castle with three pairs of double doors adorned with bronze and gold. Guards stood sentry at each door. I climbed up the stone steps until I was in front of the middle door. "Halt." one of the guards said, blocking my path with his spear. Based on his helmet amd blue cape, he was a Stormcloak soldier. "Who goes there?" "I am Almeria Redoran of House Redoran. I am here to speak with Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter." I answered, and the guard wordlessly granted me entrance. The inside was simple, but beautiful. The Jarl was seated at the far end of the hall, his brown, silver-streaked beard shimmering in the light. He wore a gold chestplate with a leather strap going diagonally to his left side, apparently to support the shoulderplate he wore on his right shoulder. He wore brown pants and brown boots, and a sword hung from his waist. A banquet was ensuing that day, judging from the myriad of cuisines served on the long table in the middle of the place. The Jarl turned his gaze towards me, and had the merriment halted. "Ah, the young lady from House Redoran." he said, approaching to greet me personally. "I trust that your journey is well?" "Faster than I have expected, Jarl." I answered. Some of the people in that hall clearly did not like me because of my heritage, but I can't care less. The Jarl invited me over to dine with them, an offer I found difficult to refuse since the sight of the roasted venison and chicken made my mouth water in almost an instant.

* * *

Much to the chagrin of the guests, I sat on the right hand of the Jarl. Most of the dinner guests were Nords who were not so happy with our race. One of them even shot a glare at me. I would've incinerated her if it were not for the Jarl. "So, Almeria, how are things in Morrowind?" Brunwulf asks. "Fine, as always." I answered. "Although the Aldmeri Dominion are still trying to establish their so-called 'sect' in our home, we will not let them do so." "Ah, the non-believers of Talos." Brunwulf said as he took a bite out of the venison. "Talos was a man, who became Dragonborn, the legendary hero with the body of a man and a soul of a dragon. He was called upon by Akatosh to join their ranks in the Nine Divines." Such is the religion of the residents of Skyrim. Although the story of Talos was made familiar to me by Neloth, I did not understand very much of it. "Was Talos a Nord?" I asked. "No, m'dear." the Jarl answered. "He was of the Imperial race, residing in Cyrodiil. His true name was Tiber Septim. When the war ended, the Empire was forced to sign the White-Gold Concordat, thus, the Thalmor."

Thalmor was the name your people gave to the Aldmeri Dominion. They were nothing but a bunch of self-righteous High Elves who could not do anything productive in their lives. "I think, judging from the stories of this Talos," I said as I bit through the kidney steak I was served. "That there is no reason for him to not be a part of your Nine Divines. He was a hero, and a legendary one at that, therefore you have my aid against the Thalmor. House Redoran has my word on it." The Jarl smiled. "Although your religion differs, at least you Dunmer know how to respect." he said. "And speaking of Dunmer, have you visited the Gray Quarter yet? That is on the western end of the city. I have plans of renovating the place." "I will be goingthere shortly." I answered. "I would also like to speak to my Dunmer brethren there, and in Solstheim." "Solstheim?" The Jarl said. "Ah, the Dunmer province northeast of here. No need to worry, for the ship Northern Maiden goes there for trading. Just approach Gjalund Salt-Mage, captain of the ship, at the Windhelm Docks, and he can take you there." "You have been very kind, thank you, Jarl." I said, finishing up my small meal. "If I may, I will visit the Gray Quarter to see my Dunmer brethren there." The Jarl and his men were kind enough to escort me out of the Palace of the Kings, and from there, I visited the Gray Quarter.

By Boethiah, the place was impoverished. From the reports I've been receiving from some of the Dunmer there, the rprevious Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak had a rather negative view on them, but they were relieved because Brunwulf was really helping them. But looking at the place, it will take a while before the Gray Quarter becomes beautiful. The name "Gray Quarter" came from our skin color, and was the racist term for us Dunmer. We were like another race who shared the same fate, the Argonians, who were called "lizards" bu the previous regime. They suffered the same harsh treatment, but now, under Brunwulf, they were leading much better lives, although the mark of Ulfric's racism has not left the two races, I am confident that the rift shall be mended soon enough. I guess I needn't check on them. Sadri's Used Wares, and the Corner Club where all doing fine. Now, I have to visit my friend and faithful House Redoran councilman, Adril Arano, at Solstheim.

* * *

As Brunwulf instructed, I visited the Windhelm Docks, just beyond the city gates. I inquired from an Argonian, Scouts-Many-Marshes was his name, about the Northern Maiden. He pointed to a caravel docked at the far end. I made a beeline towards it and saw it was ready to depart. There was a man standing there, with shoulder-length flaxen hair and gray eyes. He must be that Gjalund Salt-Mage Brunwulf was talking about. Things held and robe billowing, I gracefully approached the captain.

"Sir," I said. "I wish to go to Solstheim. Are you departing for that place now?" "You're in luck then." he answered, strong arms folded across his chest. This man truly lived the life of a sailor. "We'll be off to Solstheim shortly. And it'll be 300 gold pieces." I took out my coin bag and gave the man 300 gold pieces, and I was given one of the beautiful inside the Northen Maiden. It had a decent bed with a bedside table on the right, a desk, and a closet. The window was large enough to give a clear view of the skies and the seas. Three hundred gold pieces was well worth it. And after a few minutes, the Northern Maiden set sail.


	4. The Tidings at Solstheim

Act IV: The Tidings at Solstheim

4E, Eighth of Second Seed, Turdas

I have been awed by how calm the seas are in Skyrim. It is truly a marvelous sight as I lay my head on the pillow while waiting for the Northern Maiden's arrival in Solstheim. AS I let my thoughts drift off, I find myself thinking about that strange chanting I've been hearing in my sleep before arriving at Windhelm. I always try to decipher the meaning behind those words but time and again I have failed. Well, that question can be answered in another day, perhaps, but right now, I can see the outline of another harbor coming into view from my cabin window. The seemingly-ashen soil… By Azura, we have arrived in Solstheim. Much faster than I anticipated, I changed my clothes once more, and this time I wore the regal robes of House Redoran. It was a long robe which was silver with yellow trimmings. It is not as sturdy as armor, but was thick enough to keep me warm, and light enough for me to move around decently. "Solstheim ahead!" the first mate called out. "We're docking at Raven Rock!" I packed my things in a hurry and went on outside.

* * *

Solstheim had not changed a bit, except for the number of residents, mostly n0n-Dunmer. In fact, there was a Nord blacksmith whose house and smithy stood on the threshold of Solstheim's gates, Raven Rock. I approached him and saw that he was working on bone mold armor. "I say, sir," I said, making the man lift his head. He was in his late thirties, as I can tell, with a strong jawline, aquiline nose, piercing blue eyes, and a body built by years of smithing, if not military service. "Is that… bone mold armor you're making?" "Yes, it is." he answered. "I'm surprised anyone in this place actually gives a damn about it." He took a pair of tongs and showed me a finished bone mold breastplate. It was not the chitin armor I had seen on the soldiers back at Morrowind, but a much sturdier armor with the same inesct-like look. "Name's Glover Mallory, if you're interested." he said. "And I am Almeria Redoran. Have you seen Adril Arano, the councilman?" I answered. "Check the Retching Netch." Glover said. "It's an inn just past the gates. From my frequent forays there, I hear the councilman and his wife enjoy a visit there." I bowed my head as a sign of gratitude, and went inside the gates.

For anyone who does not know Solstheim, it is a settlement of mostly Dunmer located at the northeaastern part of the province of Skyrim. Once you step here, be wary for you are no longer in Skyrim, but Morrowind.

The houses within Solstheim all look the same and made the traditional way: using a giant mud crab's shell, it is hollowed out and thoroughly cleaned until it can be used to make the actual house. Even the Dunmer Great Houses' actual residences are made of giant mud crab shells. I've met with Captain Veloth, head of the Redoran guards who watch over Solstheim. "M'lady Almeria, a pleasure to see you once more." he greeted. "And the same to you, Captain." I replied. "I am looking for Adril Arano, the councilman." "Ah, yes, he is at the Retching Netch with Lady Cindiri." Veloth answered. "I shall accompany you there, m'lady." I nodded, and we went to the Retching Netch.

* * *

After walking down the main street and turning left, I find myself at the door of the Retching Netch. "We will stand guard here, m'lady." Captain Veloth said as he opened the door. I went inside, and found the bartender all by himself, wiping the glasses and the bar top. "Looking for someone, I presume?" he said. "Aye, I am looking for Adril Arano." I answered. "Ah, at the lower chamber, m'lady, with his wife Cindiri. Do forgive my impudence, I am Geldis Sadri, landlord of the Retching Netch." "Thank you, Geldis. I shall keep you to your chores; I have important matters to discuss with councilman Adril." I answered as I went down a flight of stairs. As I expected, Adril and his wife Cindiri sat on the table a little far from the door. "Adril." I called, and the man jumped to his feet, greeting me. "Lady Almeria! Thank Azura you've arrived." he said. Polite as ever, this Adril Arano. He serves Lleril Moravyn, the governor of Solstheim and a member of House Redoran, but even Lleril answers to me, nonetheless. "Always a pleasure to see you and your wife, councilman." I said. "Now, onto pressing matters. How are our Dunmer brethren faring here?" "Well, for starters we are doing well, despite the East Empire Company raising their prices for supply shipments." Adril said. "But above all else, we have done much better in our shipments of minerals. Also, Neloth's Tel Mithryn is prospering, despite his temper of course." "Ah, Neloth is here. I shall pay him a visit soon enough. Why did you summon me here? I was in Jarl Brunwulf's court in Windhelm…" Adril gestured for me to sit, and to my surprise, Cindiri walked out of the inn without even turning to look at her husband. It was like she was in a trance.

"There is a strange occurrence that had been going on for weeks now in Solstheim." Adril said in a hushed tone. "I do apologize greatly for interrupting your time with Jarl Brunwulf, but this is a matter you should look at, m'lady." My palms grew cold. I was already thinking that this would not be good. And my expectations are almost always right. "Are you familiar with those strange monolith-like objects littering the island?" he asked, to which I shook my head. "Those are called the All-Maker Stones, worshipped by a tribe of ancient Nords called the Skaal. But believe me, it's not the Skaal who are strange." "What does these All-Make Stones have to do with your plight?" I said, growing uneasier at each passing moment. Adril cleared his throat and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his pointed ear. "M'lady, our people have begun working on those stones for some reason, and after doing so, they seem to have no recollection of the events." he answered. "The only thing they recall, however, is the name Miraak. Although I myself am familiar with the name, I have no idea what or who it is." I nodded my head. This was definitely unnerving. "I'll see what I can find out. Do not worry, councilman." I said, immediately taking my leave.

Outside the Retching Netch, I found a bench upon which I sat on, flipping the tails of my robe with finesse as I did. I rubbed my temples as I put everything that Adril Arano said together. The settlers of Solstheim begun working on those monoliths called All-Maker Stones without even remembering they did so, and the only word they could recall was Miraak. What or who is Miraak? As I needed more information, I can only think of one person in this island who may have the answers: Neloth. From what I remembered, Tel Mithryn is just outside the housing area of Solstheim. With a start, I walked briskly towards the Tel Mithryn.

* * *

As I walked, the ash on the ground burst into life before my eyes, forming a humanoid being. Is this what they called Ash Spawn? Ha, this creature will never best me, and summoning my magic, I incinerated the creature with several lightning bolts and continued on my way. During the course of my stroll, I found out that these Ash Spawn were proliferate on the island for some reason.

Along the way, I met another Dunmer who was practicing magic. He wore the robes of an apprentice mage, and in the colors of House Telvanni at that. "Excuse me, sera," I said, and he looked up at me. "I am looking for Tel Mithryn. Do you know where it is? I need to speak with Master Neloth." "Ah, the giant mushroom-like structure there is Tel Mithryn." he answered, pointing to an oversized mushroom which was actually a tower. "But I'm afraid you will not find Master Neloth there. He is at the All-Maker Stone's shrine." "All-Maker Stone shrine? Where is that?" I asked. "That is within Raven Rock, a bit far from the Retching Netch, but close to a forest." he answered. "Thank you, sera." I said, and I walked down the path I came.


	5. The Dragon Priest, Miraak

Act V: The Dragon Priest, Miraak

4E, Ninth of Second Seed, Fredas

For a noblewoman, I have yet to work my way around Solstheim, especially with these "All-Maker Stones". My feet grow weary and my body heaves for breath. Finally, I stop for a while to collect myself. There was something strange about the people that passed me by. Their eyes seemed…empty. As if someone had enthralled them to do their bidding. Curious, I decided to follow them. And I ended up looking at a large monolithic stone glowing green amidst the sunlight. Arches seem to cover the stone itself, and the people I followed began to pick up pick axes, hammers, and chisels, and worked away at the stone. I approached one of them, a Redoran guard.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" I asked. Then he answered, "Here in his shrine." Another responded, "That they have forgotten." And as if they were chanting, the workers responded line by line, until I came to a sudden realization: the words they spoke were the very same words I kept hearing in my sleep.

And suddenly, my head began to throb painfully, as if a red-hot poker had been stowed onto my temples. I fell on my knees, dropping my staff and clutching my head in pain. And the next thing I knew it, I fell unconscious.

* * *

Where was I? Have I died? Was this Nothingness already? For whatever reason, I found myself in the middle of nothing but darkness. And then, I felt a gloved hand touch my shoulder. "Soon…" a whisper echoed in my ears. "You, too, shall listen to my voice, my beautiful _fahliil_." Then, I woke up all of a sudden in the arms of a familiar Dunmer. He wore the crimson-and-gold robes of House Telvanni, and had a pointed beard. Neloth.

"Almeria!" he said. "What in Morrowind's name are you doing here?" Shaking my head, I struggled to get up, and the master wizard cast a healing spell on me, relieving me of my pain. "Master Neloth…" I stammered. "What are you doing here as well?" "Oh, I just wanted to observe some of these enthralled people working on the Earth Stone like their very lives depended on it." he answered in his usual pompous manner. Neloth was the only surviving member of House Telvanni who had moved to Solstheim after the explosion of Red Mountain. The rest of the councilmen of his house were assassinated. And arguably, Neloth is the most powerful Dunmer wizard anyone can meet. I should know: he personally trained me in both combat and non-combat magic.

"These people… Why do they work here?" I asked, but Neloth merely shook his head. "I do not have the answer to that, I'm afraid." he answered. "I am merely here to see them do their work because of whatever spell they are put in. It is most fascinating indeed. Wonderful test subjects, I should say." My mentor had never changed. Neloth is not above gratitude, though, but he has a way of looking at everything else as a "test subject." "Master, I do have a question I hope you can answer." I requested. "Let me hear them, child." Neloth responded. "Who is Miraak?" I asked. Neloth raised a quizzical brow. "Miraak?" he repeated. "Ah yes. I'm afraid the only information I have about that man is that he's been dead for thousands of years. From what I heard, he does have a temple just north of this stone." "Is there anyone who can help me find the answer?" I asked.

* * *

"That ought to be me, elven child." a strong female voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a woman, a Nord female with braided flaxen locks and piercing green eyes. She wore a strange silver armor over brown undergarments. Her face was young, yet fierce. "I am Frea of the Skaal." she introduced. "I, too, am bothered by these events. It seems that… Miraak has influence on these poor people." "And what proof have you of your allegation, child?" Neloth asked. Ah, my ever-pompous master never gives up without a fight. "I am of the Skaal." Frea answered. "Miraak has terrorized my people before you have set foot here, elf. I should know… He enslaved my ancestors and butchered them for his pleasure." "Please, everyone, calm down." I said. "Alright, Frea. It seems you are capable of helping me. I am Almeria Redoran of Morrowind's House Redoran. Do forgive my master. He is a most ill-tempered man without his cannis root tea." As Neloth opened his mouth in protest, a wave of my hand silenced him. "What else do you know of this Miraak? And where is his temple located?" Frea was surprised at the questions, but she chose tho answer them truthfully.

"Miraak is a man who had lived ages ago." she said. "He enslaved our people, the Skaal, and killed them all after they were of no use to him." "Then, how did he die?" I asked. "Miraak was confronted by someone named Vahlok." she answered. "It is told that their battle lasted for days, and Vahlok emerged as the victor." I nodded my head. This Miraak was truly despicable, enslaving free people to do his bdding and killing them all the same when they are useless in his eyes. I fear that the people here may meet the same fate. "Very well. I shall help you in your quest against this Miraak." I said. "Come, let us travel to his temple then." Frea said, and the two of us walked away from the All-Maker Stone, much to the chagrin of Neloth.

"Frea," I said "What is the Skaal?" "Ah, an outsider." she answered with a smile. "The Skaal are the native settlers of the tundra jus north of the Raven Rock settlement. We have seen Miraak's wrath fall on our people ages ago, but thanks to Vahlok, Miraak had died." "Now who's Vahlok?" I asked. The influx of information is too much for me. I have to get these thoughts organized so I can think properly. "Vahlok was a comrade of Miraak." she answered. "Both of them were in fact, Dragon Priests. Dragon Priests are those who served the World-Eater at the time when dragons ruled over the world. Miraak turned against his dragon masters, and it was Vahlok who confronted him for that." "Ah, I see. And this Miraak is a powerful Dragon Priest as well?" I said, and Frea nodded. "The most powerful one, in fact." she replied. Soon enough, we found ourselves at a forest clearing. A lone building stood in the middle. It was shaped like a huge mud crab's shell, but it was ruined. As we approached it, I saw black soot on its surface. It was burned down.

* * *

"Frea, what is this?" I asked. "We have arrived at Miraak's temple." she answered, drawing out her sword. "Be careful, Almeria. His worshippers are inside." Who would be mad enough to worship Miraak? That aside, we headed into the temple.

We had to enter the actual temple's chambers through a downward spiralling path. Strangely enough, it was well-lit for a ruined old temple. As Frea said, Miraak's worshippers are in the ruins. I carried my staff in a defensive manner as she opened the door to the chambers.

The room was vast, and was littered with urns and chests. Just as expected, the worshippers of Miraak came to the scene, summoning their magic. They wore flaxen robes, and a mask that had a tentacle-like chin, instead of the normal masks with the lips and sometimes pointed chin. There were slits for the eyes, and the mask's head was not the usual round, but had protrusions that made it look like a crown or a bunch of tentacles. But my comrade and I did not come here to admire their appearance. These crazed cultists must be put in their place. "Come!" I taunted them. "Let me show you how much real magic hurts!" I conjured a Flame Atronarch that covered Frea as she dashed forth to hack at the two cultists at the balcony, whereas I took out the rest that stood on the path and the upper terrace with my Icy Spear and Lightning Bolts. The cultists themselved were no amateurs, for they loved using Fire-based spells, but alas, my Fire Atronarch merely threw their attacks back at them twofold. After exchanging magic attacks and blades, Frea and I prevailed in clearing the path as I made the Atronarch disappear.

* * *

"You are quite the mage." Frea said, sheathing her sword and wiping the sweat off of her brow. "And you are quite the warrior." I answered, fixing my disheveled hair and robes. "Worthy of House Redoran already." We chuckled as we went along the small path to our front, and opened the wooden double doors.

There was a long path that led to a circular platform. And all around us was darkness. It seemed that the path itself was floating. "Where is Miraak?" I said. "This is his temple, is it not?" "Yes, it is. Even I have the same questions as you." Frea said as we both walked down the long narrow path. Finally, we've reached the platform, where a pedestal containing a large black book stood. I reached out, but Frea pulled me back. "Do not touch it! We do not know what sorcery Miraak placed on that…" she said. "We will not get our answers until we read from it." I said. "Stay here and watch my back. I will see what happens." Despite her reluctance, Frea released her grip on my wrist and I reached out for the book.

It was definitely heavy, and the logo was strange. It seemed to be a mass of tentacles with pincers or a sort of netch, but with all the courage I can muster, I opened up the book. Inside it was the phrase "Waking Dreams" and I turned to the next page.

The words were hardly legible, but I can make out two ritual circles. As I try to discern the contents, a green light emitted in between the pages. I pushed the book away from me, but I was pulled in by massive tentacles that wrapped around my neck and torso. Whatever powerful fiend did this, it's won, and it's pulling me in the book. From afar, I heard Frea screaming my name.

"Where am I?"

I managed to wake up, although my head is throbbing with pain. I felt something warm and sticky against my hair so I reached up to touch it. There was blood. I was bleeding from the side of my head, so I used a healing spell, and the wound stitched itself. I struggled to get to my feet, and what I saw was something I will not forget. I was in a place that had murky dark waters, and large, voluminous bookshelves. Winding staircases lined and connected the bookshelves to each other. It was like…a huge twisted library. A lazy yet sinister voice echoed from the halls. "Well, it is ever so heartwarming to see visitors in my realm." I looked about, surprised at the voice. "Where are you? Show yourself, you cur!" I called out, and the disembodied voice taunted me by laughing. "Ahahaha, silly little elf. You do not read as much as I would expect you to? Why, who I am is of little concern to you for now…" Then, large tentacles erupted from beneath my feet and pulled me into the murky waters.

* * *

This time, I found myself lying on a circular platform. Less bookshelves surrounded the place, and none of the murky, disgusting water I saw was there. But, there were creatures composed of mostly green tentacles that were floating around. I searched for my staff, but it was not with me. I did not mind, for I can get another staff from Neloth anyway. I struggled to my feet now, but a powerful blast of magic sent me on my knees. And for the first time in my life, I screamed in pain. My eyes became slits due to fatigue and pain, but I can make out a figure that approached me. Evidently it was a man, wearing black robes. His mask was familiar, as it had been the same mask that the cultists in Miraak's temple were wearing. Around his neck was a golden amulet, and a sword hung from his left hip. His hands, enclosed in brown gauntlets, were at his back. I can tell that he was quite muscular, because the robes literally strained to hold up his robust frame. And he spoke in a familiar, smooth and sinister voice.

"_Drem Yol Lok, fahliil_." he said. "I see you've finally made your way here… Very good. Although you were not quite the guest I expected, you shall do nonetheless." "Who are you?!" I asked. "And what is this place?" My head still burned with pain, and I was not able to cast a healing spell. Impossible! Was this place hindering my magic? Alas, I am in dire straits. Help me, Azura… The masked man laughed at me as he picked me up with one hand. "Such impudence…" he said, his eyes narrowing in contempt. He threw me back to the ground like a rag doll, and those floating masses of tentacles surrounded me. "Return her from whence she came." he said, turning his back to leave. "So she can await my return with the rest of Tamriel. And before you go… My name is Miraak, my dear_ zaam_…"

And the tentacles enveloped my vision, blurring everything. Then there was nothing but white…

* * *

**SKYRIM DRAGON LANGUAGE:**

**fAHLIIL - ELF**

**ZAAM - SLAVE**

**DREM YOL LOK - GREETINGS**

**A/N**: Whew, Miraak makes himself known at last! How will our Almeria and the rest of the world fare when he returns? R&R please. Thanks to those who reviewed this fic. I appreciate the support. Also, please feel free to suggest and/or request a fanfic you'd like, whether Skyrim or not :) Thanks again :)))


	6. The Story of the First

Act VI: The Story of The First

4E, Tenth of Second Seed, Loredas

_I cannot believe the situation I found myself in. I thought this would be an ordinary diplomatic trip. I had never been so wrong. From what I can remember about the things I saw, that man in the mask and black robes must've been Miraak. Gods, I thought I was going to die. What did he mean by 'Drem Yol Lok, Fahliil' and 'Zaam'? Such unfamiliar language… Alas, I haven't the strength to ponder on these now. My head…is getting lighter. My body…the pain is lifting… The black book… Let me reach for it, we will be needing it… _

* * *

"Where…?"

Truth be told, I just found out that I hated being thrown around like a rag doll. I don't know how many times my head had throbbed with searing pain, and my body made numb with so much pain, death would be soothing. But still, I had survived. And found myself inside a small cottage near a fireplace. Frea was beside me, wearing a thick fur coat with the hood down. She let her hair down as well. Beside her was a man with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes. By their looks, they were father and daughter.

* * *

"Are you alright, child?" the man asked, helping me sit up. I nodded slowly. Somehow my voice escaped me, then a rush of panic welled up in me. The black book? Where was it? How was I to confront Miraak without it? I started looking around. The house was indeed a humble residence, with a single fireplace, a table with two chairs, cabinets, and stairs lading up to the second floor where the rooms were. "I think," the man said. "You are looking for your book." He pointed to the blakc book which was surrounded by a blue light. "Worry not about it." he continued. "I merely placed it in a seal so no one can touch it. I heard from Frea that you read that book, yes?" I nodded once more, still trying to find my voice.

"Pardon me if you cannot speak for the time." Frea said, handing me a bowl of soup. "The healing spell my father used was to heal all of your injuries, which will temporarily disable your voice. You were heavily battered when that book spit you out. You will regain your voice in a few minutes." I nodded and took the soup. Also, Frea handed me my staff. Thank goodness she kept it safe. But it seemed different. Strange inscriptions were carved onto its surfaces. "These are words that will strengthen the magic that you conjure with your staff." the man said. "I put it there so it could be of great use to you in the future." Then, I began coughng and wheezing after my first spoonful of the soup. It wasn't the soup's fault, honestly. My voice was returning. "Mi…raak…" I rasped. "Miraak? What about Miraak?" Frea asked. I coughed again, and finally my voice returned. "Miraak… I saw him…" I said. "When I read that book… I was taken to a place where…where he was…" "Undoubtedly the work of Herma-Mora is in play." the man said. "Ah, forgive me if I have not introduced myself, child. I am Storn Crag-Strider, the village shaman. Welcome to the Skaal Village." "Thank you, kind sir." I answered. "I am Almeria Redoran. That book…what is that?" "It is a Black Book, an artifact of Herma-Mora." Storn answered. "Herma-Mora? You mean Hermaeus Mora, the Daedric Prince?" I said. "I forgot, Hermaeus Mora is what you call him. But we of the Skaal call him Herma-Mora, the hoarder of secrets." Storn continued. "He has terrorized our lives since time immemorial because our people keep knowledge from him. This Black Book here," He gestured to the sealed Black Book. "Is one of the many instruments he made to tempt those who crave for knowledge."

* * *

Finally, I managed to stand, although my legs shook. I used the staff as a walking stick, but Frea insisted I sit down first. "Be not hasty, elf." she said. "Save your strength. You must rest here." "Thank you, but I feel I've stormed in on your life long enough." I said. It is a Dunmer tradition not to be a burden to other households, but for the Skaal and the rest of Skyrim, they favor this. "Please, listen to Frea." Storn said. "Do not move so much, Almeria. You've just healed. And my daughter also told me you wish to know more of Miraak?" "That is right." I answered. "Miraak was a Dragon Priest who served the ruling dragons ages ago." Storn began "Are you familiar with Alduin, the World-Eater?" I nodded. I was educated in House Telvanni about the stories of these dragons. Alduin was the Nordic god of destruction who fancies himself as Akatosh's favored child. "Alduin was Miraak's master." the village shaman continued. "He trusted him because of his strength. But then, Herma-Mora came, tempting Miraak with a power so great, he succumbed and became his champion. Thus, Miraak turned against his dragon masters, and as punishment, his temple in Solstheim was burned. And Vahlok, another priest who found out of Miraak's plot, confronted and battled him to the death." "Is Vahlok still around?" I asked. "Yes, but he is dead." Storn answered. "His tomb is just south of the village, but he can still be interacted with, as he guarded Miraak even beyond death." "Good." I said. "Then I shall pay Vahlok a visit."

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, Almeria the elf is gonna get help from a Dragon Priest. According to Elder Scrolls Wikia, Vahlok wasn't like the rest of the Dragon Priests. IN fact, the people loved and respected him, so I decided for the next chapter that she and Vahlok would talk about Miraak and how she can fight him. But what does Miraak have in store for the elf? Next chapters coming up. Pleas enjoy, and R&R :)

And I do not own any of the characters here except Almeria Redoran, and I also do not own the Elder Scrolls: Skyrim.


	7. The Guardian and the Traitor

Act VII: The Guardian and the Traitor

4E, Eleventh of Second Seed, Sundas

I had just awoken from my rest (much to Frea' insistence) and the smell of freshly-baked bread, mashed potatoes, and soup greeted my senses. I was quite famished after my little sojourn in Hermaeus Mora's world of Apocrypha. "Good morning, elven child." Frea greeted, preparing the food on the table. "Strange dreams again?" "It was about Miraak." I answered. "He was…calling me…" "Such as the power Herma-Mora gave him." came the voice of Storn Crag-Strider. "I have something for you, Almeria. Since today was the day you planned on visiting Vahlok, I suggest you read this first."

He handed me a small, leather-bound book which was light yellow in color. The clasp was shaped like a dragon's head. I undid the clasp, and the book's title glared at me in bold letters on the first page.

* * *

**The Guardian and the Traitor**

**By**

**Lucius Gallus**

"What is this all about?" I asked. "I suggest you read it, m'dear." Storn said as he took a spoonful of soup. "It will help you in your endeavor today." I turned the page once more, and I found pictures. One was of a man who wore a long veil and donned robes. He carried a staff with a flower-like tip at the end. He had no mask. Beneath his image were the words "The Guardian." The page beside it gave a brief description of the Guardian.

"**The Guardian is one of the Traitor's contemporaries. He, too, was a powerful Dragon Priest during his time. And the Traitor found out that this particular priest was not to be trifled with. It was the Guardian, seen here in his ceremonial robes, who confronted the Traitor. I thank the shaman of the Skaal Village, Breigr Winter-Moon, for providing me with such a vivid description and the details of this book."**

"So the Guardian," I said. "Is Vahlok?" "Exactly." Frea said, taking a bite out of the bread. "He was the one who fought Miraak to the death." I then turned to the next page, and it showed Miraak on one side, with both hands resting on top of the hilt of his sword, and a brief description of him on the other page.

* * *

"**Not much is known about the Traitor except that the World-Eater himself, Alduin, trusted him because of his power. But the Traitor was swayed with power and ultimate knowledge by the Daedric Prince of Fate and Knowledge, Hermaeus Mora, or Herma-Mora in the Skaal lore." **

"This is definitely befitting Miraak's description." I said as I turned to another page. That particular page had no more images, but it contained the story of how the Guardian and the Traitor fought for days.

"**In a time where Dragons ruled over mankind, there were those who worshipped the beasts, called Dragon Priests. They were powerful mages who were personally taught by the Dragons themselves to cast powerful destructive magic and the Thu'um, or the Voice. One exceptional Dragon Priest was the one known as the Traitor. His power was so great, the World-Eater acknowledged him as the most powerful of all Dragon Priests, and even assigned him to be his personal priest.**

**Of course, that was quite a time ago.**

**Even the Traitor was a man, swayed by words of offers that are just too hard to resist. And his weakness against temptation proved to be his undoing. The Daedric Prince of Knowledgem Herma-Mora, came to him one day and seduced the Traitor with knowledge and power that can help him overthrow the dragons and be ruler of the land. The Traitor did not refuse, and willingly submitted to cunning one as his champion. Soon, the Traitor began to plan behind the scenes.**

**But his plot will not be undiscovered.**

**There was another Dragon Priest who was aslso exceptional in the eyes of the Dragons. In contrast to the rest of the Priests who wore a mask, he did not. He was known as the Guardian. His kind demeanor earned him the trust of the people, unlike the other priests wh o favored enslaving them with fear. It was the Guardian who discovered the rebellious plot of the Traitor and confronted him.**

**The two battled after a heated argument, sending off Shouts and arcane energy at one another. According to Breigr, the battle between the two priests was so devastating, it tore Solstheim off of Skyrim. But, that may be just an exaggeration. That aside, the two priests battled until the Guardian was about to strike the killing blow to the Traitor.**

**But Herma-Mora intervened, taking the Traitor into his lair before the Guardian could end him. But thus, both dragons and humans viewed this as an act of chivalry, and was made ruler of the island. But the dragons made hm swear an oath to stay vigilant of the Traitor's return, even beyond death.**

* * *

"Well, the book was rather helpful. But I think I will get much more accurate information from Vahlok himself." I said, putting the book down on the table. I noticed just now that my clothes were that of the Skaal: a blue fur coat with a hood, but mine was tailored to resemble a mage's robe. Frea handed me a different looking staff. The tip was fashioned into a spearhead made with some form of very thick ice, and the magical inscriptions were still etched onto its surface. "I know you missed your old staff." she said. "But please, make do with this. It also doubles as a spear, so you can defend yourself."

"Thank you very much." I said. "You have done more than enough, Frea, Storn." "Ah, you are most welcome. We will do all we can to help anyone who will aid us in the fight against Miraak and Herma-Mora." Storn said. All three of us went outside after breakfast, and at the very moment I stepped foot onto the snowy ground, a strong wave of energy rippled through me. "What is that…magic?" I asked, looking around. "So you have detected the barrier Storn and the rest of the shamans had built around our village." one of the Skaal residents said, approaching us. "This is our defense against Miraak should he return." "And his return will be something I have to stop at all costs." I said. "My people are also endangered by his mere existence." Storn and Frea nodded in agreement as they took me to the forest clearing. Then I would go to Vahlok's tomb all by myself.

* * *

"I guess we part ways here." Frea said, patting my back. "I guess so." I answered. "But I will return to let you know what you happened. A Dunmer never forgets a debt." To them I owed my life. If Frea had not taken me here, I would have died. I then trekked the long, forest path. It was still snowy, and it slowed my trip a bit because my boots kept burying in the snow, but nevertheless, after an hour and a half, I have reached a small ruined barrow at the forest outskirt. The entrance was dilapidated, since the stone that served as its archway were scattered onto the ground. A camp was set up near the barrow's entrance as well, so it seemed that someone already got here. Robbers, perhaps? I hope not. After getting into a scuffle with Miraak's cultists, I do not want to tire myself out again.

Sighing, I cautiously entered the barrow. The tunnel is dimly-lit, and the sides are lined with urns. I am not familiar with the Nordic burial tradition, but I assume these were a part of it. My pointed ears then twitched. Footsteps. And voices. They are not far, but I must be wary. Seeing a crevice big enough, I hid myself and observed my surroundings. I was right about my assumptons. Bandits were indeed inside this barrow. What were they looking for? Treasure? Ha, I doubt it. As the voices and footsteps grew farther, I finally left my hiding place.

* * *

I arrived at a small chamber lined with coffins. Ah, this must be where the Nords buried their dead. As I advanced to the small arched doorway, an arrow whizzed past my ear, and a rumbling voice from behind said, "You never should've come here!" I turned around and saw three bandits, all with arrows aimed at me. Two were Altmer, and one was an Orsimer. Just my luck, then. Using the staff Storn gave me, I conjured a blizzard inside the chamber, its large icicles impaling the unlucky. As soon as I got rid myself of those bandits, the coffins' lids began to fall, revealing the dead bodies they housed. They wore horned helmets, and remnants of chain mail. They carried battle axes, swords, and bows and arrows. Warriors in death, indeed. But what disturbed me was that those dead bodies began to get up and walk, weapos drawn. And they were all headed to me.

"Nerevar guide me…" I muttered to myself. The undead warriors begun talking in a strange language.

"Aav Dilon!"

"Sovngarde Saraan!"

"Bolog Aaz, Mal Lir!"

Whatever they were saying, I cared not. From what I remembered about my lessons with Neloth, the undead are very prone to fire-based spells. And we Dunmer are highly regarded for our destruction magic. This time, I hurled several fireballs at the undead horde, incinerating them upon contact. What seemed to be a war that lasted for hours were, in truth, mere minutes.

* * *

After clearing the chamber for the undead, my eyes caught the bow and arrow that one of them used. Ah, I apologize, dear _sera_, if I forgot to tell you that I am also well-versed in archery. House Redoran in Morrowind is known for its warriors. I was a battlemage, therefore I was taught both the arcane arts, and mastery over weapons. So I picked up the bow and the arrows of the undead warrior and ran straight to the door.

I was in another chamber, and two of those undead things that attacked me earlier came at me from both sides. I knew the arrows will not kill them, so I hurled fireballs once more. After reducing them to ash, I looked for any signs of them, particularly coffins. Thank Azura there were none of them left. Save for the last coffin that stood in the middle of the room. Unlike the ones that the undead Nords stayed in, this one was particularly elaborate. As I approached it, the lid flew open all of a sudden, and its resident rose, floating.

He wore tattered purple robes, and a veiled gold headband. His face was already decomposed, revealing only bones and glowing blue eyes. He held a staff similar to mine. If you were in my situation, _sera_, you will tremble. But surprisingly, even as I fell back, trembling in fear, there was no malice around him. He looked down at me, and offered a bony hand to help me up.

* * *

"T-thank you…" I muttered. "You are most welcome." the undead one answered in a raspy voice. "Why did you fall down, _fahliil_?" Fahliil? The same word Miraak used to refer to me. Argh! By the Blessed Three, their language is incomprehensible! "I, uh…" I stammered. I was both awed and afraid. "I was…afraid. Y-you see, I-I faced…undead warriors here…before I got to you…" The undead one chuckled. "Ah, they are called Draugr." he explained, floating around me before stopping in front of his coffin once more. "Warriors in life they were, and under the service of the Dragon Priests. In death they are still bound to serve, just as I was bound to guard a traitor." "Traitor?" I almost spat the words. Thank Vivec I found the man! "You mean to say… You are the Guardian?" "The legends called me so." he answered. "My name is Vahlok. I, too, am a Draagon Priest alongside Miraak, the one who is known as Traitor." I sat in front of him. "Please, I am on a journey to defeat Miraak. He is threatening this island with his return." I said.

Vahlok was startled at the news. "Very well then, _fahliil_." he said. "I apologize if I cannot help much, for my body is _dilon_, dead. Only my oath allows me to exist. What can I do to help?" "Well, I'd like to know first what you mean by '_fahliil'_." I said, curious. "In Morrowind, we have no such word. And what is the language that you, Miraak, and those undead warriors spoke." The Dragon Priest nodded in understanding. "The language we all used is called the dragon language." he said. "The word 'fahliil' means elf." I nodded in understanding, but I am surprised to find that dragons had their language. "What is Miraak capable of? I must know, so that when I confront him, I know what to expect." "Miraak is a mighty mage. And he is no ordinary opponent." Vahlok said. "Aside from being the most powerful Dragon Priest, he is revered as the First Dragonborn." Dragonborn? Now that was something I knew.

* * *

In legend, the Dragonborn was the one to defeat Alduin, the World-Eater. Your Dragonborn in Skyrim is similar to our Nerevarine in Morrowind. But I did not expect Miraak to hold such a title. And I think he does not deserve it. "The Dragonborn," Vahlok continued. "Or _Dovahkiin_ in the dragons' tongues, is a man with a soul of a _dov, _a dragon. Miraak possesses this, therefore he can speak the language of the dragons without going into training, like I did. And the Thu'um, or the Voice, is a power existing those who can speak the dragon language, or those who trained in the Way of the Voice."

I was at a loss for words. Miraak was indeed no ordinary foe. This so-called Thu'um, it is very powerful. "Can yu show me what the Thu'um can do?" I asked. Vahlok nodded. "Step away from the wall, _fahliil_." he said. I moved to my left, and he shouted, "Fus Roh Dah!" A bluish tinge of force flew from him and onto the wall, shattering it. "That is the power of the Thu'um." he said. "I seemed to have lost my strength a bit. Death can do this. But that aside, Miraak is very capable of this, and his is much stronger than mine, for I am not Dragonborn." "How do you learn this Thu'um?" I asked. I knew I had no choice. I had to learn this new magic so that I can have a fighting chance with Miraak.

* * *

"There is a place in the island of Skyrim." Vahlok said. "Called the Throat of the World. Atop it is the monastery of the Greybeards, the masters of the Way of the Voice. Their master is the great Paarthurnax, once the right-hand man of Alduin the World-Eater. They can teach you the Thu'um, but it will take years for you to learn. And Miraak can return sooner than you do." I shook my head. "What do I do?" I muttered to myself. I lost all hope. This Thu'um was not an easy thing to achieve, unlike studying magic with Neloth. The Dragon Priest approached me and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Fear not, _fahliil_." he said. "Make do with what you have. Your dermination and knowledge in magic runs strong in you. Do not let your fear take over for you, and you will surely defeat Miraak. I had nothing else except courage when I faced him." "But you knew the Thu'um…" I said. "And the Thu'um did not help me, for Miraak would merely bounce it back a hundredfold." Vahlok answered. "I only relied on my magic and prayers. Thus, I won. _Fahliil_, I must rest for now. An _alok-dilon_, undead, must rest. I shall be well tomorrow, if you wish to visit." "I must go back to the Skaal Village to let them know of the occurences here." I said, standing up. I did not want to exhaust Vahlok any more. "Then Talos bless you, elf." he said. "Nerevar protect you, Vahlok." I answered as I returned the way I came in, and he, to his coffin.

* * *

**DRAUGR** **TRANSLATION**

Sovngarde Saraan - Sovngarde awaits

Aav Dilon - Join the Dead

Bolag Aaz, Mal Lir - Beg For Mercy

**A/N**: Yes, I finally finished the heart-toheart with Vahlok chapter. The word 'sera' refers to the reader, for the Dunmer like to use the word in conversing with others. I just thought of a few things: the next chapter will change in perspective, and there's gonna be another fanfic involving Miraak. Just been thinking of the plot for over a week now, so I'm gonna start making it alongside this one. Thanks for the support, and please R&R!


	8. Cleansing the Stones - Wind and Earth

Act VIII Part I : Cleansing the Stones – Wind and Earth

4E, Twelfth of Second Seed, Morndas

I used the campsite at the entrance of Vahlok's tomb just to spend the night. I hadn't any idea that so much time had passed in there. This was different than when I had the envoy with me. It was much easier. But since I opted to travel alone, I must endure the hardships of the fate I chose. Sudden twist in what was to be just an ordinary diplomatic trip. Before I slept, I placed a barrier around the campsite.

When I closed my eyes to rest, there it was again. Miraak's voice.

"There you are, _fahliil. _Too bad our meeting time was short. But do not worry, I will get you soon enough. You will be my _zaam_, even if you refuse."

* * *

My eyes flew open, and reaching for my staff, I looked around to see if Miraak was there. Thankfully, he wasn't. Over these past few days, I've grown very wary about that accursed Dragon Priest. Sometimes I even think I've gone mad. But this was a choice I made. I chose to sacrifice my life for the sake of my people, and for the rest in Skyrim. It may not be the same sacrifice as with the Nerevarine or the Dragonborn, but a valiant act nonetheless.

I just decided to leave the damned campsite and return to the Skaal Village.

After traversing the forest in the darkness for more than an hour and a half, I got to the Skaal Village. Exhaustion and lack of sleep nagged at my body, and my knees almost buckled, but I used my staff as a walking stick. There, in the village square, I saw Storn and a group of other villages seated on the ground in a circle, using their magic to make the barrier around the village stand. I wasn't able to find Frea. Perhaps she is at reast. But I cannot stand any longer. So my knees finally gave in and passed out.

"Almeria? Almeria, are you alright?" A voice said to me. I wasn't able to comprehend who spoke to me, for my head was still fuzzy and my body felt light. Then, I felt a warm light cover my body. A healing spell.

My eyes finally opened after several minutes, and I found myself in a room at a familiar cabin with Storn and Frea. "Thank the All-Maker you made it." Frea said. "Can you tell us what happened at Vahlok's tomb?" I collected my thoughts to narrate the things Vahlok told me about Miraak, but my body urged for me to rest some more.

* * *

"Let us have her rest for the time." Storn told her. "After all, it is only the crack of dawn. Perhaps later at noon, she will be alright." Frea nodded and the two stepped out of the room. I found my things beside me, neatly placed on the bedside table. My staff stood on the other side of the bed. There was a note that was placed on the table as well. When I found my strength, I sat up and took the note and read it. It was from Adril Arano. It said:

_Lady Almeria,_

_Good tidings to you._

_I do hope your stay there in the Skaal Village has been well. Neloth gave me at least some of the details. But I regret to inform you that the strange tidings here at Raven Rock had not settled down. In fact, more of the people here had been going to those All-Maker Stones, building some sort of arch that surrounds the said stones._

_I do hope you also get to the bottom of the situation. I've also sent a letter to Morrowind asking for help especially from the mages. _

_Nerevar guide you,_

_Adril Arano_

* * *

I shook my head and kept the letter in my robes. This was going to take a turn for the worst if I do not act now. I hurried downstairs and I found Frea and Storn discussing something quite serious. I did not wish to interrupt, so I stayed on the staircases and listened.

"But Father, surely the signs must have been made clear to you now!"

"Frea, calm yourself. The omens have been present. Herma-Mora's power over our land grows even stronger… And Miraak's return may be inevitable."

"Then what _can _we do? What do _we _do? Father, sitting here and holding up that barrier is draining your health! If we are to be idle then we are all going to die!"

"And we do not want that to happen!"

This was the first time I have heard the calm demeanor leave Storn's voice. I only nodded in acknowledgement.

"Frea, I'm sorry for screaming like that at you, but you must understand that being rash in our decisions can lead to far more disastrous outcomes. You must know this…for you will take over my stead once I return to the All-Maker."

So Frea was also a shaman? Well, her affinity in combat made me believe otherwise, but all the revelations being said, I came down to get something to drink, acting like I heard nothing.

* * *

"I trust your sleep had been good?|" Storn said, and I nodded. He seemd very exhausted. Mind you, using high-level magic such as the one he used to maintain the village's barrier can exhaust you quite fast, lest you had proper training.

The old shaman chuckled. "And I'm sure you heard the conversation I had my daughter?"

I was startled. We Dunmer, especially House Hlaalu, are good in sneaking, thus the Morag Tong. "I…did not mean to eavesdrop on your talk." I said, sheepishly, but Storn shrugged it off. The topic was very serious, and I knew the degree of severity that we all were in.

"I'd just like to ask," I said. "Is there any way we can hinder Miraak's return if it is not avoidable?" The question seemed to strike a chord in Frea, and Storn was equally surprised as well. Storn thought for a second. "There is one way, but it would be very tedious, and dangerous as well." he answered.

"What is it?" I asked. Whatever way there could be, I'm willing to go down that path, for if it means stopping Miraak, I'll gladly give my life for it. "You must purify the All-Maker Stones." Storn answered. The All-Maker Stones? Those giant monoliths? How do I cleanse those things?

"Cleanse…the All-Maker Stones?" I said. "Is there even a way to do that?" "There is a Shout, or words of power made from the dragon language that can be used." Storn said. "But since you are not Dragonborn, you must perform the Ritual of the Cleansing." He handed me a small book with a blue-colored cover and gold lining.

"In that book will be the necessary incantation you will use to perform the act." he continued. "I am confident, that with your skill in the arcane arts, you can perform this ritual without even learning it." "Then I shall be with her, to serve as sword and shield when she performs this." Frea said.

* * *

"All the help I can get would be most gratefully appreciated." I said, and Storn agreed to the proposition. After cleaning myself and preparing my things, I went downstairs again to meet Frea, who was dressed in her armor.

"Let us go." Frea said. She handed to me the book that had the ritual spell in it. "My father could not see us on our way for he has tol be with other elders to hold up the barrier." I nodded and we both went out of the house. We saw Storn along with some of the villagers seated in their usual place, concentrating their magic on the barrier. The two left the village, and were out in the forest. "Where do we start? And how many Stones are there, exactly?" I asked. Frea took out a scroll from the pouch she carried, and unfurled it. It was a map of where all the All-Maker Stones were in Solstheim.

"We have six stones in Solstheim, and each represents an aspect of nature." Frea answered. "And those stones are the Wind Stone, the Earth Stone, the Beast Stone, the Water Stone, the Tree Stone, and the Sun Stone. All six stones have been stained by Miraak's power, and the people of this island, including some of my people, have been manipulated into making those stones a beacon of sorts to guide and hasten Miraak's return." She looked at the map, and grinned. "We are close to our first stone, which is the Wind Stone." "Where is that?" I asked. "Just north-west of our village. Let us go, immediately." Frea answered as the two of us rushed north.

Not long into our sprint did we find the Wind Stone. To our horror, we found most of the Skaal villagers working on the stone. It was a large pillar-shaped rock embedded deeply into the earth with a light green light glowing faintly. "No!" Frea said, running towards her people. "Stop this madness! You are going bring disaster upon us! Stop, please…" But her words fell on deaf ears. The villagers did not respond. I even found some of the Redoran guards working there, and I tried convincing them to no avail. All of them recited Miraak's words as if those were the only things they could speak.

Quickly I opened the book, and saw the incantation. But I was at a disadvantage: Storn did not say that the spell would be written in the dragon language. "What are you waiting for?" Frea called out to me. "Do the ritual! I will protect you!" "I…" I stammered in shock. "I cannot… I cannot read this…" She ran towards me and looked at the book's contents.

"Dragon language…" she said. "By the All-Maker, this is in the dragons' tongue." The book's incantation was short and simple, but it was hard for me to read. It said:

"_Alok bonaar bormah, daal daar sil. Kren fin gron, govey fin vokul!"_

"Read it as it sounds to you." Frea said. "Remember you are not Dragonborn, so you can read these without channeling your very spirit into it. Just concentrate and recite the spell." I closed my eyes, and concentrated all of my magic. Then I parted my lips, and read the spell. "Alok…bonaar…bormah… Daal daar sil. Kren fin gron, govey fin vokul!"

* * *

A green light escaped my fingertips, making a beeline towards the Wind Stone. It hit like an arrow dead on target, and sparks of green and blue light flew into the sky, making the workers stop their acts. The very ground rumbled all of a sudden, and the arches built around the stone collapsed. The Skaal villagers and the Redoran guards who were once enthralled finally snapped out of their tranced states, and were surprised to find themselves by the Wind Stone. "What on Azura…?" one of the guards said. The water beneath the Wind Stone suddenly turned black and murky, just like the waters of Apocrypha, and bubbled up to reveal a creature that stood like a human, only that it was made of writhing tentacles and had two glowing red orbs for eyes. It came at us, swinging its tentacle-filled arms at us. The unwary bystanders who were in its way were thrown aside, and the Redoran guards drew their weapons in an attempt to help. Frea drew her weapons as well, a longsword in one hand, and conjuration of Frost magic in the other, using both at the same time.

I conjured up a Lightning Bolt, and hit the monster smack on top of its head. It fell down to its knees, and Frea finished it off with an Ice Spear. The guards approached me and bowed down. "Lady Almeria, forgive us for our inability to help." one of them said. "Nay, brothers. You are well appreciated." I said. "Now return to Raven Rock and inform Captain Veloth and councilman Adril about this. Oh, and don't forget to inform Lleril Moravyn as well." The guards bowed once more, and left for Raven Rock.

* * *

"Where to now?" the Skaal warrior woman asked, sheathing her weapon. "Where else?" I said. "Raven Rock, Frea. The Earth Stone's there." We followed the Redoran soldiers all the way back to Raven Rock. The place was almost a ghost town, had it not been for some of the passersby, and the Redoran guards patrolling. I saw Captain Veloth among the men as always, and upon seeing me, he approached right away and bowed.

"Milady," he said. "My men here have told me the news. Thank you very much fr saving them from that monster. But alas, forgive me for not being able to fulfill my duties. I shall be ready to accept whatever punishment you see fit." I chuckled and shook my head. "Nay, captain. You needn't worry about punishment. I would do all I can to help. After all, it is my mission. See to it that none of the people goes near the Earth Stone. And protect Adril Arano and his wife at all costs." The Redoran guards bowed before going on their way as Frea and I rushed to the Earth Stone.

As expected, the people were working there. Several Nords, apparently from the Northern Maiden's crew, along with three other Redoran guards, were working tirelessly at the stone's arches. They were indoctrinated by Miraak's spell. Opening the book, I recited the spell once more. This time, it was much easier to say, because of Frea's guidance. "Alok bonaar bormah, daal daar sil, kren fin gron, govey fin vokul!" The magic energy left my fingertips and hit the stone, Like the incident with the Wind Stone, the ground beneath us trembled, the pond around the Earth Stone turned dark and bubbled up until the tentacle-filled monster appeared again. This time, Frea and I went with a new trick: combining Frost and Lightning magic. I shot my strongest Lightning spell, and Frea topped it off with a Blizzard spell, and the monster was reduced to nothing in mere minutes. The people who worked at the stone were surprised and had no recollection of ever being summoned to work. I approached one of them, a Dunmer by the name of Rins Llervu, a beggar.

* * *

"Do you remember anything while you were at least working here?" I asked. "Like a… a sort of voice commanding you to do things?" "I'm asking myself why Miraak was making us build these shrines." he answered. "And I'm afraid…the answer will be far worse than any of us can imagine." "Thank you." I said, a tinge of fear gripping my soul, as he walked away. Frea came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You seem very troubled. Much more than when I first saw you." she said. "You cannot blame me." I answered. "My people…and the whole of Solstheim… They are my responsibility… as the princess of House Redoran… But it seems that I cannot fulfill my duty here… This is far worse than I anticipated…"

"Worry not, Almeria." Frea assured me. "You've been doing what you can, and I have to say, it is yielding good results. None would dare talk to Vahlok like you did, and none would have the courage to stand up to Herma-Mora and Miraak…" I smiled at her. My body was beginning to feel light all of a sudden. I was exhausted. Impossible! I've just rested… But I cannot give up… Not now. Not yet. There are four more stones to be cleansed.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it took a while, because I got caught up with my employment requirements, hehe. Anyways, please R&R. Will the events be in the favor of the Skaal and Almeria? Or will things take a turn for the very worse? Later chapters will be coming soon... SOON.

**Translation of the Cleansing Spell:**

"Alok bonaar bormah, daal dar sil. Kren fin gron, govey fin vokul." - "Arise, humble father, reutrn these souls. Break the bind, remove the evil."


	9. In Your Eyes

Act IX: In Your Eyes

4E, Thirteenth of Second Seed, Tirdas

It was around midnight already. Thankfully, I can still tell the time. But I knew for sure I wasn't conscious, for Miraak had taken over me in my sleep. He brought me once more to Apocrypha. The books fluttered around aimlessly, and the souls of those who had desired all the knowledge still rummage through Hermaeus Mora's voluminous collection of both forbidden and unforbidden knowledge. A true hoarder he was, that Hermaeus Mora, but as long as he does not intent to hurt me, I hold no malice yet. But Miraak… He was different.

As he noticed I fell back and walked on a slower pace, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to his side, a non-verbal command for, "Do not slow down and follow me", which I caught on quickly. His hands were strong even under the brown leather gloves he wore. But what really tickled my curiosity was that if he ever took his mask off. "M-Miraak…?" I asked, sheepishly, and the Dragon Priest turned his head to me. Beneath his mask, I can feel his eyes piercing like Frea's sword, boring into my soul. "Yes?" he said.

And that was it. Even his very voice scared me. Cool, deep, yet commanding and sinister all the same. This man had definitely held me, even with just one word and his masked eyes. I hated him, yes, but right now was not the moment to show. And I noticed right now that I was still in my dirty clothes, making me blush a bit. "Do you…ever take that mask off?" I finally asked, still embarassed by the question. And Miraak let out a low chuckle. "When I eat." he answered, loosening his iron grip on my hand a bit. "Why are you so curious?"

* * *

We Dunmer have a way of telling people by looking into their eyes. If I could somehow read Miraak through his eyes, I can discern what he truly aims for, and find a way to stop him. "I…I want to see your face." I answered with my haughty pride. "So I can take a good look and remember the face of the monster whose life I will end." He laughed at me again, a mix of contempt and malice in his voice. Swiftly, his hand grabbed hold of my chin, his fingers squeezing my jaw tightly. His strength made me fall halfway to my knees.

"Silly child." he whispered. "You wish to kill me? How unfortunate… I'm dead already." "Heh, it pays to kill you the second time to make you stay dead." I shot back. I knew I was going to be in a world of hurt after saying those words, but instead of finding myself being hurled halfway across to Azura-knows-where here, Miraak still held my face as his free hand removed the mask and threw it aside. His face was that of a Nord man, around his early thirties, with a strong square jaw that made him very handsome indeed, piercing blue eyes, a chiseled nose, and short, wavy brown hair. A faint scar ran across his cheek. "This is how I look like." he said as he released his grip on my face and helped me up. He picked up his mask and we resumed our walk.

"My dream seems awfully long, and I should've woken up by now." I said. "How come this is so?" "I have mastered Vaermina's method of prolonging a person's dream." Miraak answered. "In fact, if I wanted, I would have you sleep for eternity, being stuck with me." Somehow, his last few words hinted sadness, but being Miraak, I was not sure whether he was putting up a play or if it was real. But I had more than enough time to look in his eyes. But it was strange, for the emotions were unclear. He had a myriad of feelings condensed into those piercing blue orbs… Loneliness, desire, hunger, rage… The emotions in Miraak's eyes were indeed powerful, and it was starting to unfold before me. Those emotions were his drive to do the unthinkable.

Our walk then ended at a sort of twisted-looking dining hall, where books served as the pillars, the chairs, tables, even the dinnerware, looked as if Hermaeus Mora had spit a bunch of his own tentacles and molded them into dinnerware. Fortunately, there were none of those Seekers around, as Miraak led me onto sit beside him. "Are we…going to eat?" I asked. "No." Miraak answered. "There is no food to be had here. But I assure you, you will not stay here for long." My crimson gaze met his evenly, but something about this man-made me cringe a bit. And so when I turned my head away, he reached out a glove hand and pulled it back, making me look at him.

* * *

By Azura, Miraak was handsome, but he was evil incarnate. He held me like a man would to a woman by the neck. Or perhaps, marriage. Pah, Miraak marrying? Ha, I would never end the pity I will give for the most unfortunate woman who suffered for it. "You…" the Dragon Priest said. "You are quite the character, aren't you? Always eluding my every grasp… But not this time…" His other hand stroked my cheek, which sent an electric feeling into my whole body. I pulled away, but Miraak's reach was long, and pulled me back closer, this time our faces were merely inches away. Despite being dead for over a thousand years, Miraak's breath was minty. "My dear _fahliil_…" he whispered. "You have a purpose to me, _and only me_. You will be my eyes in the world. I will see through you now… Does it not flatter you that I have given you this honor?" With the strength I can muster, I slapped Miraak's face, stunning him. "You shall not do this to me!" I said, standing up. "I will not do what you want." Then Miraak stood to his full height. I only reached his shoulder. He looked more of a warrior than a priest because of his tall and muscular physique. But nonetheless, the smile playing on his lips was all too familiar as he stepped close to me, hands on my shoulders.

"And when the world shall see…" he whispered. "And when the world remembers… That world… Will cease to be…" Then he kissed me, full on the lips, before the dream ended, and I woke up, drops of sweat dripping from my face like I had splashed water on it.

* * *

It had already been early in the morning, and both Neloth and Frea were looking incredulously at me. "By the gods, are you alright?" Neloth asked. I have not seen Master Neloth this worried, not after most of the councilmen from House Telvanni had been murdered. "You were screaming in the dead of night! What happened to you?" Frea added, concern softening her usually composed features. I didn't know where to start. Miraak kissing me, making me 'his eyes'? I hadn't the slightest idea what his actions meant, but for all that has happened, I am too terrified at the outcome already.

"I… I was ensnared…" I answered. There was no point lying to them. My fear took the best of me. Neloth prepared some cannis root tea, which was a miracle, to help me calm down while Frea held my hand. "Ensnared?" she said. "By who?"

"Miraak…" I answered, and both Neloth and Frea's mouth hung open like a horker waiting for fish. "So the dream.." Neloth said, composing himself. "This is not good. What did he tell you?" "He…He said…" I cannot even begin to say it. It disgusted and terrified me. The kiss, the dream, everything about it was malicious and evil. But there was no escaping it.

This is the beginning of the end. "He made me his eyes to the world."

* * *

**A/N: **Almeria is ensnared by Miraak! OMG! What is gonna happen to her and her quest to save Solstheim? Watch for the next chapters. Again, I'm so sorry if the update takes so long :( PLease R&R, and do not stop supporting :) Thanks :))


	10. No Escape

Act X: No Escape

4E, Thirteenth of Second Seed, Tirdas

Neloth and Frea were still looking at me in utter horror. "It means…" Neloth said. "Starting at this moment, Miraak can see what you see…" Tears began falling down my face. As a princess, my emotions tend to be hidden. But not this time. "Is there anyway we can reverse what Miraak did?" Frea asked. Neloth rushed over to his books and began to look for a solution like an elf possessed, Frea following after him.

I was on the cot with my head buried in my hands. Why did I let that bastard priest touch me? What had gotten into me? Was this what they called 'fatal attraction'? I surely hope not, for hate is the only thing I feel after witnessing what he did to my people. My eyes then fell on a short, silver dagger on Neloth's desk. Its silver gleam danced in my eyes. And then, an idea hit me. What if I blinded myself? Perhaps Miraak may not be able to track our movements then. But it will hurt greatly. I looked back, and saw Neloth and Miraak hitting the books, literally burying themselves in books of magic and occult.

After almost half an hour of searching, none of them found a way to reverse Miraak's curse. I was without hope. But the dagger that gleamed maliciously on my mentor's desk tempted me to take it and stab my eyes out, but Frea would not approve of it, I am sure. So I resisted the urge to take it and blind myself and sat still. I barely had any appetite to eat, and I was greatly disheartened. Frea placed an assuring hand on my shoulder as Neloth went downstairs to get some breakfast done by the steward.

* * *

"It will be alright." Frea said. "We will find a way. I am not sure what, but we will not give up." "I actually have a plan." I said. "If Miraak uses my eyes to see this world, then I shall blind myself so he would also be blind to the world." Frea's crystalline eyes widened. "You? Blind yourself? That's a preposterous idea!" she exclaimed. "By the All-Maker, the pain you'll endure will be great. The inability to see the beauty of this world will be a lifelong torment." I smiled sadly. Looking at the situation I had gotten myself into, I knew I was a toy to the darkness. "Let's get help from Storn." I proposed. "Being a shaman, perhaps he is familiar with these enchantments." "Not without breakfast, I fear." came Neloth's voice. He and his steward came in the room and brought a tray of netch stew, cannis root tea, and sweet rolls.

"A hearty breakfast, I might say." Frea said as she took a sweet roll. I followed suit, and Neloth did so as well. "Master," I spoke to him. "This enchantment Miraak has placed on me, are you familiar with this?" Neloth stroked his pointed beard. "It could be a modified version of the ancient spell that Hermaeus Mora would use on his chosen one." he said. "But I'm afraid, there is no known way to break its hold."

I felt like my heart and my insides just wanted to burst out. More and more, I kept thinking. I am a princess, sent by House Redoran to oversee how our Dunmer brethren were doing, and then this predicament. But I was too late, and my slow actions caused this effect. With all the despair, I grabbed the dagger on the table. I realized that Frea and Neloth tried to hold me back, but I was quicker. And without a moment's hesitation, I pointed the knife's tip to my face. And the next thing I remember is that everything went pitch black.

* * *

Then the sensation of a tentacle wrapping around my leg as I was getting dragged down in darkness. As I came to, I found myself again at the summit of Apocrypha, with Miraak standing. From beneath that awful mask, I can sense him smirking in triumph.

"Well, how did the blinding go, _fahliil_?" he said as he helped me to my feet with just one hand. "Impossible!" I screamed at him. My mind went frantic, my heartbeat was erratic, like it would burst out of me. "There…there has to be a way…" I just found myself on my knees, tears streaming down my face. Never in my life have I been in such despair. "Stop..please…" I begged, my words choked from the sobbing. Miraak bent down to my level and tilted my chin up to meet his face, or mask. "There's no escape from this." he said. "The moment you involved yourself in my plan… You will not get away. Think of it as…being condemned." I shook my head, refusing to believe any of the words he said. I will not be condemned to this damned fate. There must be a way out of it. Sweet Azura, guide me, for I am straying into the darkness.

"Even if you blind your eyes," Miraak said. "That does not stop me from seeing through you. You can never hurt yourself in such a degree, anyway, so why bother? Accept your destiny, and you will be sweetly rewarded." His hand was glowing with a fire red, and he clamped it down hard on my bare arm, making me scream my throat hoarse. "Now take that message of mine and show it to all of the people you see… My return will come soon." My flesh was singed and burned, as I cringed on the floor, writhing in pain. Apparently, Miraak loved the sight as he picked me up by the hair and pushed me back against one of the pillars.

* * *

"Aren't you honored by this, Almeria?" he said, now gripping my arm and my neck. "I know I am. Such a powerful soul you have. How long can it stand against the storm before it breaks? I'd like to see that…" He took off his mask, revealing that chiseled, handsome face, and that animalistic smile playing on his lips. "And now will be the time to see…" He kissed me on the lips once more. There was nothing gentle about his act, as his lips crushed into mine, his tongue slithering and dominating my own. The man's sheer muscle was hard for me to resist, and to make sure I don't wriggle free, he gripped both of my arms close to my side tightly.

A low moan of satisfaction escaped the Dragon Priest's lips as he pulled away. "I'll habve all of you to myself soon." He said as he wore his mask once more. He waved his hands over my face, making me fall unconscious. "Go back to your world for now. And tell them my coming is nigh." I had that falling feeling again, and the next moment, I found myself strapped onto Master Neloth's table.

"By Azura, _what happened to you_?!" Neloth exclaimed, his voice filling the room. "You were lashing out! What has gotten into you?" My head was fuzzy. All I remembered was grabbing the knife and trying to gouge my eyes out, but apparently, that was not the case, as Frea was on the chair, her sleeves ripped and scars, freshly opened, adorned it. "Did I slash her like that?" I asked. "Yes, you did." Neloth answered. "It seemed you were in Miraak's control. This is far worse than I-what's that on your arm?" He gently took out my arm, and saw letters burnt into my flesh. But he could not read them, for they were written in the Nordic alphabet. "Frea." he called out. The Skaal warrior walked slowly towards me with worry on her face. "Are you alright?" she asked, the fear imminent in her voice. I nodded, and I was trying to form an apology for her. I didn't know I would be controlled in such a deadly fashion. "Frea, I… I'm sorry…" I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "I…didn't know you…I..." I buried my face in my hands, sobbing as Frea embraced me gently. "It will be alright…" she whispered to me. "Come, let us return to our village. We'll see what my father can do." I nodded, and after offering me breakfast, Frea and I left Tel Mithryn to return once more to the Skaal Village.

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**Almeria! No! Our fierce Dark Elf has now fallen to the brink of despair, but whatever she does, she can't escape? What'll happen next? Chapters coming up soon! I'm sorry for the delay :(**


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